The Passionate
by At A Venture
Summary: When Alcide Herveaux disappears, Sookie and Amelia become supernatural detectives. Unfortunately, this is more than an open and shut case.
1. Chapter 1

**The Passionate**

_Chapter 1_

My skirt fluttered over my knees as I sat down on the edge of his desk. He grinned, bearing a bit of his fangs as he stuck his arm out and curled it around my waist. I squealed with delight as he yanked me off the cool polished walnut and across his denim-covered lap. Mm, he looked devilishly handsome, as always. He'd pulled his long hair back behind his head in that intricate plait that I loved, and his sapphire eyes seemed particularly piercing. He turned his head to nip my earlobe, to caress the soft skin of my throat, to brush his tongue against the faded scar he'd left on my shoulder when we'd bound ourselves to one another.

"You look good enough to eat, my lover," he growled into my skin, grazing me with his teeth. I giggled and shivered.

"Don't tease me," I whispered, touching the taunt skin of his belly with my fingertips. His abdomen muscles rolled as he laughed.

"Why not, Sookie? I thought you liked being teased," he chuckled. One of his large hands disappeared under my skirt as he reached for the pair of pink lace panties I'd adorned.

"Only if I get to tease you in return," I smirked playfully.

"Hmm, I am supposed to be working," he frowned momentarily before shrugging his massive shoulders.

"You really need to give yourself a few nights off…" I grinned. I leaned against his chest so I could place delicate kisses on his neck and shoulder. My lips were hovering over his tight black tee shirt when there was an insistent knock at the door. I couldn't even contain my pout.

"What?" Eric growled over my head, addressing the door. It burst open and Pam fell in, followed by about four members of the Shreveport werewolf pack. Among them was Amanda, a red-haired were I'd met many times before. She looked positively merciless right now, about as close to changing into a full wolf as I'd ever seen her.

"You have guests," Pam grunted before throwing her butt into the cushions of Eric's couch. I slithered from his lap and went to join her. Eric got out of his chair and stepped around to the front of his desk. He crossed his arms over his chest and appeared almost calm but for the seething anger in his icy blue eyes.

"Can I help you?" Eric asked, narrowing his eyes at the handful of werewolves. A man I didn't recognize stepped to the front. He had deep brown eyes and almost black hair. His skin was tanned and wrinkled, and I gathered he spent a lot of time in the sun. He wore a white tee shirt and blue jeans, hiked up with a black leather belt holding an enormous gold belt buckle. He didn't seem to be afraid of Eric at all, which meant he was either really brave or really dumb.

"Alcide Herveaux is missing," the man spat accusingly. Okay, just answered myself. He was really dumb, and I mean really. Still, I jumped up from my seat beside Pam and scrambled to Eric's side.

"What do you mean, he's missing?!" I squeaked. Eric didn't look at me, but he stuck out a hand to squeeze my wrist. I shut my trap.

"He did not return home from the office last night, and no one has seen or heard from him since. His cellular phone goes to voicemail automatically, and the security tapes that monitor the parking lots at his office have been stolen." Amanda spoke tersely and tensely. I looked from the belt buckle man to Amanda, and then up at Eric. Surely they didn't think the vampires would want Alcide for anything.

"And you think I have him?" Eric raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "What would I want with your pack master?"

"You know he's been heading up the Supe Revelation campaign in Louisiana. Maybe you only want your own kind out in the open." The belt buckled man sneered accusingly, but Amanda and the other two wolves only shrugged. They didn't think Eric had anything to do with Alcide's disappearance. I felt one of them out, looking for a clue, but could only manage to get a sense of bewilderment and fear. I sat down again beside Pam. The process of digging into a Supe brain isn't easy, and digging into an angry and confused Werewolf brain is that much harder.

"I don't have Alcide Herveaux, and I don't know of anyone that would. Now, if you'll remove yourselves from my bar, I'd much appreciate it."

"Come on Allen," Amanda said to the belt buckled wolf. He was still staring intently at Eric, but he didn't shrug off her outstretched arm. "We shouldn't have come here in the first place."

Pam excused herself and went back to managing the bar, so I was left alone on the sofa. I looked up at the Viking. He got up from where he was leaning on his desk and sat down beside me, pulling my body against his with one snaking arm around my shoulders.

"What did you hear?" He asked before pressing his lips against my temple. I shuddered for a moment and exhaled a deep breath.

"Nothing concrete. They were afraid, confused." I looked down at the floor before I raised my eyes to Eric's face. He didn't seem bothered by the disappearance of Alcide Herveaux, but I certainly was. "I can't believe he's missing. What if something's happened to him? What if he's in danger?"

"Alcide Herveaux is heavily involved in this Supe version of the Revelation. He should've been more careful." Eric shrugged.

"More careful? What do you mean?"

"Some Supes don't want to be exposed, Sookie. I don't blame them. I wasn't terribly thrilled about the vampire Revelation myself, until I realized all the profit in such an endeavor. There may not be much profit in the Supe Revelation, though. They're already working in human sectors. They could be ostracized."

"So you think Alcide might be in danger, from whoever these other Supes are that don't want to be revealed?" I shuddered at the thought of vengeful Supes, particularly vengeful werewolves.

"I have no idea." Eric brushed his fingers through my hair. "I honestly do not care."

I should have known that Eric, a vampire, wouldn't give a rat's ass about the whereabouts of the Shreveport pack master. Vampires and Supes were notorious in their dislike of one another, and though they occasionally had a business dealing, that was the extent of their relationship. If Eric lost his connection of werewolf businesses through Alcide's disappearance, he could find an in through some other route. The business was far more important than the specific contact, and I should have known that by now.

But I was worried about Alcide, particularly after Eric had told me about the group of Supes that weren't too interested in informed integration with the rest of society. I honestly didn't blame them. People would probably get pretty riled up if they learned that there were really werewolves around, particularly among children. I couldn't even imagine all the letters to the principals about dangerous children among "regular" children in preschools. I frowned as I walked into Sam's office after work to ask him about Alcide. Sam was setting the phone on its hook when I walked in, shedding the rectangular black apron I'd worn during my daytime shift.

"I don't know what happened to him, Sook," Sam frowned, looking up at me for a minute before returning to the pile of papers on his desk.

"You already heard, then," I frowned, slumping into one of the two wooden chairs arranged in his office.

"Yes, I heard. Alcide Herveaux and Miriam Andrews, pack master of the Baton Rouge pack, have been missing for two days. I just got off the phone with one of the public relations officers at the office where they've been doing preparations for the Revelation. They've received several anonymous letters about Supes uninterested in their plan to expose our kind. But they haven't received any specific threats."

"I'm worried about Alcide," I sighed. "What if he gets hurt?"

"Don't go doing anything stupid, Sookie. Supes take care of their own. We'll find Herveaux and Andrews. Trust me."

"Yeah…" I muttered, getting out of the chair and reaching for my purse. "Right."

On the drive home though, I couldn't not think about Alcide and what trouble he might have gotten himself into by taking on such a large part in this Revelation stuff. I pulled up in front of the rickety farmhouse to find Tray Dawson's pickup perched on the gravel out front. I parked beside Amelia's car around back and walked inside. Tray was on his feet, pacing in front of a confused witch. She stared at him with her mouth half-open. He stopped moving when I shuffled into the house.

"Sookie," Dawson grunted, lifting his head. He crossed his arms over his chest. I could feel his mind reeling the way Amelia's did pretty much all the time. He was stressed out and worried, concerned for Alcide probably. I looked at Amelia who suddenly clamped her mouth shut.

"Sorry to interrupt. I uh… just got off work." I whispered as though I'd just walked in on a funeral service. Dawson was broadcasting so loudly that I couldn't ignore it. I felt dizzy with the heaviness of his thoughts, but I kept right on listening.

_It's gotta be The Passionate. If it isn't them, they know where he is, I'm sure. Those despicable… I'll have to catch the car in front of the Shreveport cemetery, sneak in and nab one of them. I'll beat it outta them. Damn ungrateful wretches, all elitist bastards the lot of them! _

His train of thought kept rolling, but I'd had enough. I wandered dizzily out of the living room toward my bedroom, making a mental note to look up whatever The Passionate was as soon as Dawson left.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Passionate**

_Chapter 2_

As soon as the door slammed shut and the pickup engine roared to life, I galloped up the steps to Amelia's bedroom. I fell onto her bed, grabbing the laptop as I went. As I was flipping open the top, my roommate was trudging up the stairs. I could hear her footsteps, slow and labored, as though she were being pushed backward on her ascent. I hunted for the letters on the laptop keyboard, eventually typing "The Passionate" into the Google search engine. Amelia stood in the doorway and stared at me.

"What are you up to?" She blinked, glancing down at the laptop as though she were surprised I knew how to operate it. Okay, so maybe she had a point.

"Tray told you about Alcide," I said, more like a statement than a question.

"Yeah, he did. He's really bent out of shape about it. I mean, I don't blame him. But that doesn't answer my question, Sook…"

"I heard his thoughts. They were so…loud. I mean, I can't usually hear Supe thoughts, let alone werewolf thoughts, but Tray was just radiating. I guess he was so stressed out that he couldn't hold them back or something."

"So you heard something about Alcide, something he didn't tell me?"

"He was thinking about 'The Passionate'. I guess they're a group? Sounds like it." I looked back at the screen and scrolled through a list of unhelpful Wikipedia links.

"I've heard of them," Amelia frowned, leaning into the doorframe. I blinked and stared up at her. Her features were cloudy, darkened by the prospect of this group, whoever they were.

"Well, spill!" I almost yelled at her. I was desperate to know Alcide's whereabouts.

"The Passionate is a secret society," Amelia sighed. She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her, as if someone could hear us. "They're made up of a group of wealthy and guarded werewolves, all of them from a specific bloodline. I've heard stories that their leader is one of the oldest werewolves in existence, one of the first to bring their kind into being."

"That's…is that even possible?"

"I don't know, really. There isn't exactly a lot of literature on the subject. But you won't find them on Google, that's for sure."

"Can we talk to them, find out if they have Alcide?" I shut the laptop, severing the connection to the web. Suddenly I realized how silly it would be—trying to look up a secret society on the internet.

"They don't congregate with non-weres, Sook. They keep entirely to their own kind. Heck, they barely speak to non-werewolves, and only then when they have to, according to what I've heard."

"Well, if Tray thinks they're the culprit… We have to get in there and investigate, Amelia! If something happens to Alcide…" I whimpered.

"You don't still care about him, do you?" The witch raised her eyebrows.

"No!" I yelped, possibly a little louder than I had intended. "I just…he's my friend."

"I'll see what I can do," Amelia sighed, her shoulders once again weighed down.

While I waited for Amelia to probe her magical connections, I baked. I threw butter and eggs and flour and sugar into a bowl and began to mix it with a wooden spoon, so that it would take up time and energy. Why _did _I care so much about Alcide's disappearance? I mean, yes, it was bad that he had disappeared, but I hadn't said two words to him since he'd taken over the Shreveport pack in an event that I had had to watch. I shuddered even now, just thinking about the display of raw animal power, and subsequent sexuality that had gone into Alcide's rise through the ranks. So what was compelling me now? Was it the lure of mystery and intrigue? Did I need some new way to get myself into deep, deep trouble? Was I bored? I grabbed a bag of chocolate chips from the cupboard and dropped a few handfuls into the dough. I continued mixing, going so far as to work up a sweat. Amelia scrambled into the kitchen. I hadn't even heard her come down the stairs.

"Ooh, cookies!" She giggled. She was clutching a couple of books in her arms, and she dropped them on the kitchen table so that she could swipe a spoonful of batter from the bowl. I followed her example and set the bowl down beside her books. The batter always tastes better than the cookies anyway.

"What did you find?" I asked, spooning a mouthful of dough onto my tongue.

"Well, I think I have a way that we can get into the meeting. I did some searching and found out that they have gatherings on the first night of the half-moon."

"When's that?" I blinked, peering at the calendar hanging on the fridge. I couldn't make out the symbols without getting up.

"Uhm, well, it's tomorrow night." Amelia chewed on her lower lip nervously. She spooned another ball of cookie dough out of the mixing bowl.

"The sooner the better, I think. Alcide needs help." I didn't know what made me think I was a useful ally in this whole crazy plan, but I thought it might be easier to get a witch and a telepath inside rather than half the Shreveport pack.

"Okay, so to get us into the meeting, we pretty much have to be able to pull off the fact that we're related to the ancestry of these wolves." Amelia opened one of her books and skipped through the pages. "So, I'm going to make a potion that we're both going to drink. The potion is going to change our scent and our physical features; just enough to make us look like the human forms of a couple of werewolves."

"…Wow," I blinked, impressed.

"I pretty much have to spend all of tonight and tomorrow working on it. The gathering begins at moonrise, about seven-thirty or so."

"I'm working the dayshift again, so I'll be home by six." Thank goodness Sam had given me a bunch of days.

"Good. Can you pick up some hooded cloaks on your way home from work?"

"Some…what?"

"They don't wear clothes, since they can change at will. They wear cloaks, black ones."

"Where am I going to get black hooded cloaks in April, in Bon Temps?"

"Isn't there a costume shop near Tara's boutique?" Amelia asked thoughtfully. I shrugged, but I figured I'd have to check it out. I remembered that Eric owned a hooded cloak, but he'd probably ask me why I needed it. Then he'd lecture me about infiltrating a secret society of werewolves. Couldn't blame him for trying to persuade me otherwise, but darnit, I was bound and determined to rescue Alcide, or at least find out if these Passionate folks knew where he was hiding (or being hidden).

"Wait…we're going to be naked under these cloaks?" I blinked, suddenly realizing the full extent of Amelia's train of thought.

"Uh, yeah," Amelia nodded, quickly filling her mouth with more cookie dough.

"But we won't be changing into wolves…" I pouted. I didn't want to be almost naked in a room full of other almost naked people! I had a sudden flashback to _Eyes Wide Shut_, a movie that I had mistakenly rented at the video store. Yikes.

"But they don't know that…" Amelia said with her mouth full.

"But they won't know we're wearing clothes!" I argued, throwing my arms out for emphasis.

"I don't know what's going to happen while we're there, Sookie. If we have to…disrobe, I don't want to end up as the suspicious one that wore a summer dress under her cloak!"

"If I have to get naked in front of a group of werewolves, I'll never forgive that Alcide Herveaux."

"Are you sure you want to do this, Sookie? I mean, why don't you call the Shreveport pack and tell them about this whole…plan?"

"It's going to be so much easier to get us into that meeting than it would be with the Shreveport pack. They're all scared and lost without their leader, and they're all pretty angry. Heck, one of them pretty much accused Eric of taking Alcide, and I was surprised he didn't rip that wolf a new one!"

"Point taken," Amelia nodded.

"If they have Alcide, we can call the Shreveport pack and let them know. Then they can come in and beat people up and break down doors, the whole nine yards. If they don't have Alcide, well, why make a big mess over nothing?" Yep, I was rationalizing a really stupid plan.

"Okay, I hear you. I have to go out and grab some supplies. You have any plans tonight?" Amelia was getting to her feet, pulling her books into her arms. I had planned to go down to Shreveport to visit Eric at the bar, but I wasn't sure I could keep my big new secret to myself. Eric would just kill me if he knew I was putting myself in harm's way, on purpose, to rescue a werewolf. On the other hand, I could really use some good lovin' before I put myself in danger. Decisions, decisions.

"I might go down to Shreveport to visit Eric," I said noncommittally. Amelia smiled at me over her books and turned on her heel to walk to the back door. She grabbed her car keys off the hook beside the frame and opened the door to find a certain Viking standing on the porch steps, poised to knock.

"Eric," Amelia grinned, stepping out of the way to let him into the house. I peeked around the fridge to see Eric stepping into the living room.

"Amelia," Eric nodded to her, smiling kindly. He shut the door behind her and her car started up almost immediately. The Viking drifted into the kitchen and swept his arms around my waist. I set down the bowl of cookie dough and leaned back against his chest.

"My lover," he whispered against my ear, a growl in his tone. "We were so rudely interrupted last night that I did not have the opportunity to tell you how much I loved your dress."

"I thought you had to work," I breathed, already aware of how his presence made me irrepressibly giddy. Don't tell him, Sookie! Don't open your big mouth!

"A little birdie told my boss to give me the night off," he laughed. His chest rumbled against my back and I shivered.

"That was kind of him," I grinned.

"Tell me it was worth it," he nipped my throat and I shivered.

Yep, definitely worth it.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Passionate**

_Chapter 3_

"It reeks," I gasped, wrinkling my nose and holding the shot glass out away from my nostrils. My eyes were actually watering; the potion smelled so bad. I gagged a little, blinked back my tears, and stared at Amelia. She was dipping her own shot glass into the pot on the stove, and she didn't look too pleased at the mushy-pea color and consistency of the potion she'd whipped up.

"Kinda looks like that stuff they used to make vomit in _The Exorcist_," Amelia said.

"Well, I definitely agree that it looks like something the Devil puked up…"

"Just hold your nose when you drink it down," Amelia suggested. She was already pinching her nostrils with one hand.

"How long does it take to kick in?" We had a little over an hour to get to the cemetery.

"It'll start working as soon as you ingest it. Magic's pretty fast-acting."

"Okay, count of three. One…two…" I put the shot glass to my lips and poured the concoction down my throat. It burned all the way down, like a poorly mixed cocktail. I set the shot in the sink and Amelia left her empty glass on the kitchen table.

We had already changed into our black hooded robes, which I had found in the corner behind some old witch costumes at the shop three blocks away from Tara's boutique. It was a cramped and dusty little store, and the manager was a man I'd never met. He had beady brown eyes and tiny reading glasses. He'd smelled like shoe leather and moth balls. I bought both costumes for ten dollars (cheaper than renting!), and figured I could save them for future visits to secret societies, or you know, bad Halloween costumes. Feeling sufficiently naked and awkward and curious about whatever was happening to my figure as I changed into what a werewolf was supposed to look like, I followed Amelia out to the car.

I'd managed to somehow avoid spilling the beans to Eric, and so we were in the clear to complete our stealth mission into the dark unknown territory of secret society infiltration. I felt like James Bond or those guys in Mission Impossible, and maybe a little bit like Maxwell Smart. Amelia drove us to the cemetery while I checked to make sure I had everything in the little purse I'd brought to wear around my neck.

"Keys, check. Phone, check. Nail file, check."

"Nail file?" Amelia raised an eyebrow at me. Her eyes were glowing green, and they were spectacularly beautiful. I couldn't look away from her for a moment, and she seemed to keep changing in front of my eyes. Her cheeks, which are normally plump and rosy, seemed to lengthen at the bone and shrink inward at the roundest points. Her lips were fuller, dark and red, almost bloody in their appearance. Even her skin lightened. She looked magnificent and unusual and otherworldly.

"You never know what you might need…" I shrugged. I reached up for the mirror on the underside of the visor and looked at my own face. The potion had given me some of the same features that Amelia now possessed, but my mouth was lighter, more of a pale pink than a bloody crimson. I had more color in my face, particularly the apples of my cheeks, than the creamy witch beside me. My hair was shiny, like tendrils of real gold. If only Eric could see me now.

"This spell is incredible," Amelia breathed as she looked at my face.

"Watch the road!" I squeaked. We swerved over the median and back again. A few cars honked.

"Woops, sorry, hehe," Amelia giggled nervously.

It took us almost an hour to reach the cemetery, and we waited dutifully in front of the south gate for the car to approach. This was how members of The Passionate arrived at the gathering. No one knew where it was held, and the driver was bewitched after he had performed his duties. At least, Amelia understood that he was bewitched. For all we knew, they killed the poor guy after his last trip. A black Cadillac pulled up at the curb, and Amelia opened the door. We got in silently and pulled the door shut behind us. We were alone in the backseat, and the windows were completely blacked out. There were too many switchbacks to allow for comprehension of our route and finally, I gave up trying to keep my bearings.

After twenty minutes in the car, we pulled to a stop. The engine switched off, and the door was yanked open. I stepped as confidently as I could manage from the leather seat and placed one bare foot on the cool concrete curb that guarded a plain elevator room. I opened the door to the room and Amelia followed me into a plain and rather ugly elevator. We rode up after pressing the only available button.

_Don't wander off_, Amelia cautioned me by broadcasting her thoughts. That witch, she was a smart cookie. We had no idea if Weres were listening in on us, watching us, judging us. I shook my head slightly to indicate that I'd heard her.

The doors slid open after a five minute ride to the interior of the building. I stepped cautiously out of the elevator and lifted my head to gaze at the intricate features of the hallway. The carpets were soft under our bare feet, decorated with a crisscrossing gold pattern on a blue background. The walls were paneled in glossy maple, and a few portraits of men and women hung between the heavy wooden columns. Each figure had a similar face with angled cheeks and almond-shaped eyes. Many of them posed in a neoclassical style of dress, like characters in a Jane Austen movie. One of the women had dogs sitting at her feet.

There were candelabras throughout the ornate entranceway, and I noticed that there was no modern lighting whatsoever. Each window we passed had heavy velvet curtains in shades of dark blue, drawn back with braided sashes. I looked out of one window, but I could only make out a long iron fence surrounding luxurious gardens, and the half moon hovering overhead. Wherever this place was, we were completely isolated from Shreveport. That made me more than a little nervous.

Amelia took the lead and I followed her to a pair of heavy doors carved with roses. She opened one and we slipped through the portal into a startlingly large ballroom. The walls changed from the honey color of the hallway to a rich and dark cherry paneling. A single chandelier hung in the center of the room, dripping with crystals and sparkling with candlelight. The rest of the room was shrouded in darkness. Amelia inclined her head toward a gathering of Weres, each figure dressed in the same black shroud we wore. I followed her to the edge of the crowd, and suddenly, we were in.

There was no backing out now.

I remained absolutely silent, wedged myself into a spot between two tall and thin Weres, and watched the scene playing out in front of me. Of the Weres opposite me, I could see only eyes, piercing through the darkness of the room, illuminated by the glow of the chandelier. Each pair had an element of wildness, as though they'd all transformed already and had managed to stand on their hind legs. Their cloaks did not respond to their breathing, and I hoped mine wouldn't either. My lungs were gasping in air like a fish trying to survive out of water. I kept my eyes straight ahead, struggling to focus on the gathering, to listen to any sound that might reveal Alcide's whereabouts. The crowd parted opposite me, waves responding to the touch of a magician. From the shadows, a woman walked into the center of the circle, underneath the glowing candlelight.

It took every effort not to gasp. She was beautiful to behold and quite naked. There was not a single strap of clothing on her lithe, muscular body. Instead, she'd been adorned with an intricate pattern of tattoos-thorny brambles and beautiful red roses. They covered her legs, her abdomen, her breasts, and her shoulders. If she had turned away from me, I probably would have seen a similar pattern on her back, her calves, her bottom. Now, I'm not a big fan of tattooing because I always thought it was sort of ugly, especially on women, but this Were? Well, she really pulled it off. She looked magnificent. The tattoos, though, were only one feature of her gorgeous appearance. The woman had long black hair, braided though it was-it fell to the middle of her back. In the firelight, I could see that her eyes were icy blue, almost white, with sharply contrasting black pupils. Her flesh was creamy ivory, and I doubted she spent much of her time tanning in the sun. Her face had the same features I'd seen in some of the portraits in the hallway, the same features I'd seen in Amelia's transforming face. I don't usually spend my time staring at naked women (I like boys), but I couldn't drag my eyes away from her.

"Selene, the Passionate One, we thank you for the gifts you have given us, the world you have opened to us. We are forever in your service." The crowd spoke as one, as though they were at church, responding to the daily prayer. I moved my lips so I would appear as though I knew what was going on.

_That's her, the oldest living werewolf, the mother of their kind. _Amelia's thoughts penetrated me, and I almost jolted in my surprise. I continued staring at her, this woman, this mother of an entire race of creatures. She didn't look a day over twenty-seven.

_She isn't like them. She's immortal, capable of producing full-blooded, transforming werewolves forever. She isn't bound to the same limitations that restrict mating in the rest of them. _I was completely in awe of her.

"We have much to discuss this night," Selene said, her voice deep and dark, yet strangely beautiful. She was a melodious alto, an opera singer, a nightingale. "Bring him to me."

I gulped. The crowd parted again, and I was shoved to one side, unable to see the man that was pushed through the sliver in the assembled Weres. I strained to look through them, to peer between the mingled heads. The crowd drew back together, and I looked through a space in their hoods at the man in the center of the circle.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Passionate**

_Chapter 4_

He dropped to his knees, and I could see through the heads around me that he, too, was nude. If he'd worn a robe to the gathering, he'd been dispossessed of it. The man was almost as breathtakingly attractive as Selene. He had clipped dark brown hair, smoothed over his scalp in curly waves slicked into place with pomade. He wasn't Alcide, but I couldn't breathe a sigh of relief. The crowd was hushed, as though they'd drawn in one collective breath. I remained rigid, watching the mother of all Werewolves, and the man bowed at her feet.

"Welcome to our circle, Louis," she purred, touching the man's bare shoulder. His muscles seemed to ripple under her graceful fingers. His name she pronounced in the traditional French, and for a moment, I wondered about her background. I'd read a book once about French werewolves, and I knew that these particular creatures were sometimes called loup-garou, even by English speakers.

"My children, Louis comes to us from the bayou, a descendent of my womb, a brother to you all. He is pure, as we are pure, a creature of the moon, a passionate."

Two hooded figures stepped forward, one holding a long stick in one hand and a small mallet in the other. One of the figures, a woman I guessed by the way her robe rested on her body, took Louis's arm in her hands. The other figure, a man I assumed, began meticulously stabbing Louis's outstretched forearm. I watched blood trickle down his skin. His face was expressionless, and I wondered if he was trying to hold in the pain. It certainly looked like a painful and horrible experience. I allowed myself a brief glance at Amelia, standing several feet away. If she could have shrugged, she would have. I looked back at the scene playing out before me, and after several minutes, I watched the man rub red dye into the open wounds of the Were. That's when I figured it out. They were tattooing him.

"Disperse, my children. We will resume our schedule in twenty minutes." Selene waved her hand and the crowd fell away, not turning from her until they were integrated into the shadowy backdrop of the ballroom. I found Amelia in the melee, grabbed her by the arm, and dragged her down a different hallway. We went searching for a bathroom, and found one off to the side. It was happily and unexpectedly empty, devoid of a line, so I jumped inside and dragged Amelia with me.

"What the heck was that?" I squeaked at her as soon as I shut the door.

"Looked to me like a new initiate. I didn't know they tattooed one another. I didn't plan for that." Amelia looked a bit bewildered. I pushed up my sleeves and looked at my forearms. It was the first time I'd seen any of myself but my face. My arms were muscular, lined with veins like a bodybuilder. It was a little creepy, I can tell you! I reached over and pushed up Amelia's sleeve too. Her arms looked the same way, thin and toned with bulging blue veins lacing the musculature.

"I'm almost tempted to disrobe and see what the rest of me looks like," I gasped. I felt like I'd taken polyjuice potion. (Why yes, I do read Harry Potter! What's it to you?)

"Go ahead. We've still got some time." Amelia shrugged. She was already unzipping her own robe. I turned away from her and unzipped mine. No time like the present, right? I really wished Eric could see me.

"Wow. This spell is amazing," Amelia breathed. I figured she was using the mirror to look at herself. I didn't shed my robe, but I did glance down my front. Don't think I'm being proud when I tell you I looked darn good. My breasts were a bit smaller because the muscles of my pectorals were more defined. Good thing they'd shrunk because I hadn't been able to wear a bra! My abdomen was tight and taunt, with a clearly defined six-pack that still looked pleasingly feminine. The muscles in my thighs were larger, but the body fat was almost completely gone. Even my calves were stronger, more defined. I giggled a little and zipped my robe back up. Incredible.

"Are you ready?" Amelia asked me. She pulled her hood over her face to hide all but her eyes, and I followed suit. As soon as we were dressed again, we slid from the bathroom, one at a time. I found my way to the ballroom again, fell in line behind a few Weres, and came to stand in the gathering circle. Louis had been removed, and I figured he was probably mixed into the crowd by now. I wondered how much his tattoo had stung, if the ink rubbing would give him an infection, if he thought it was all worth it to be a recognized member of this particular group. It probably was. These Passionate people seemed pretty interesting, if a little too into the formality aspect of secret society meetings. I guess that's part of the fun.

"Selene, the Passionate One, we thank you for the gifts you have given us, the world you have opened to us. We are forever in your service." This time I knew the words, and I repeated them so that I would fit in with the crowd. Selene was already standing in the center of the circle. She'd removed the plait from her hair and it fell around her shoulders and back like a cape. I felt an incredible urge to kiss her, to touch her. It was a little weird.

"My children, we meet this night to witness the expansion of our race, the creation of a new member of our society. Bring our parents forward."

The crowd split again, though this time they parted across from where I stood. Two figures came forward, clad in nothing but a single rose tattooed on their left forearms. They clasped hands, and wore smiles on their faces. They actually looked really happy, pleased to be the center of attention maybe. I had thought that Selene meant we'd be watching a birth, which was pretty gross but also sort of amazing. I mean, wouldn't it be neat to give birth on command, whenever you felt like it? But unless Weres carried babies differently (which I doubt), the female member of the pair didn't look pregnant at all. That's when I got the gist of it. They were going to conceive in front of us. And that meant… oh Lordy.

The couple dropped to their knees in front of Selene, bowing their heads and appearing respectful of their great, great, great (times a million?) grandmother. She touched each of their crowns in turn, then stepped back into the crowd, still in front of us, but also mingled among us. I was so close to her, I could smell nature on her skin. Mud and dirt, grass and swamp, trees and sky were mixed together in an intoxicating and beautiful scent. The distinct allure of blood was particularly noticeable.

The woman wrapped her arms around the man, and he kissed her, pushing his tongue between her lips. Their limbs intertwined arms over arms, legs over legs. He cupped her breast with long, smooth-looking fingers, while she licked and sucked upon his neck, leaving small red marks. One of his hands drifted between her thighs, rubbing the darkening lips, teasing the nub of pleasure hidden within them. I found myself thinking of Eric, imagining him in that circle caressing me. I've never been a big fan of watching people get it on in front of me, but something about this particular episode was more moving, less repulsive. How much of my thoughts were my own and how much of them were residual Werewolf thoughts pushed into me by the spell? My gut warmed as though my Viking was standing right beside me, but I knew that he couldn't be. I made every effort not to clench my fists, to react to the scene. No one else seemed particularly swayed by it, even interested in it. They watched like stone statues.

I heard the thick, sickly sound of the change, the transformation of human to werewolf, and I stared in awe as the man became a full-bodied wolf. He was the complete embodiment of a natural wolf, not larger nor more distinct than the variety one sees on Animal Planet programs. His fur was thick and brown, his eyes a fertile green. The female, still in human form, leaned up from her knees and wrapped her arms around her lover's furry neck. I couldn't turn my eyes away, but damnit, I desperately wanted to look anywhere else. She kissed his wet nose, accepted his damp tongue on her cheek, and then released him. She turned away from him and bent over, pressing her upper body against the floor.

I couldn't believe it. I absolutely couldn't believe what was about to happen. There was no way I could stand there and watch this strange display of animal/human copulation. I gasped when he entered her, his forelegs resting on her shoulders. Eyes turned to me. I could feel a sudden tension in the air. I shut my eyes, tried to block the sounds of her voice from my ears. Amelia's thoughts were pushing on my brain but I dragged up the walls, blocked her out. Nope, nope, nope, there was no way. I wasn't seeing this. I absolutely wasn't.

I opened my eyes. There was blood on her skin, on his paws, on the floor, mixed into the fur of his snout. God in heaven, I wanted to throw up. She looked happy, and that made the whole thing that much more revolting. The sucking, mucky, thick soup sound rang in my brain. The woman became a wolf, as gorgeous as her companion. Her fur was a yellow gold, like wheat in a Midwestern field. Her pretty blue eyes flashed brightly. They curled up together on the floor, licking one another.

"Disperse, my children. Our night has nearly drawn to a close. We will resume our appointments in twenty minutes." Selene walked back toward the center of the circle. She knelt to pet the shoulders of each of the wolves. They rumbled in their contentment. I hurried out of the ballroom, brushing past several hooded figures. A hundred pairs of eyes turned to watch me leave.

The bathroom door was thankfully open again and I ran into it, shutting the door behind me. Okay, maybe slammed it is a more appropriate term. I sat down on the toilet seat and tried to will my heart into slowing down. I yanked my purse from around my neck and dumped it out on the floor. Amelia's thoughts floated into my head from somewhere nearby, disturbing my attempts to dial numbers into the keypad of my cellular phone.

_Sookie, where are you? Look, I heard some people talking. There's going to be an execution. That's the last order of the evening. They seem pretty excited about it. Do you think it's Alcide? Darnit, Sookie, where did you go?_

You know, I'm really glad that my roommate can broadcast her thoughts to me so clearly, but she really needs to learn that I can't exactly project mine back at her.

I looked back at my phone. An execution? Shit! That was probably Alcide and that woman from Baton Rouge, and what was I going to do about it? I hadn't brought anything more deadly than a nail file, and I certainly wasn't going to be able to fight back a bunch of angry werewolves with one lousy sliver of metal. It wasn't even silver! I stabbed numbers into the phone and pressed it to my ear. I was going to need major reinforcements. Boy, Eric was going to be angry with me.

"Fangtasia, the bar with a bite," Pam purred into the phone.

"It's Sookie!" I yelped. I did not have time for any dilly-dallying, as Gran would say. "Where's Eric?"

"He's in a meeting, Sookie. He cannot be disturbed. Perhaps I can help you?"

"He's in a…look, I need him! And you! And anyone else you can find! They're going to murder Alcide!"

"Who is?" Pam asked, though she didn't seem particularly interested.

"The Passionates!" I hissed. "They're going to murder him in…in…" I looked around for a watch, but of course I didn't have one. I pulled the phone away from my ear to look at the time, but since I didn't have a frame of reference, it was fairly useless. "Well, in about ten minutes!"

"How do you know all this?"

"I'm AT the freakin' secret society right now!" I almost yelled. I mean, come on Pam!

"You're _at_ a Passionates meeting? Are you insane?" She actually sounded mildly concerned. Took her long enough!

"Look, I have to go. If I get into the hall late, they're going to be suspicious."

"Miss Stackhouse, we're already suspicious."

I looked up. Oh shit.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Passionate**

_Chapter 5_

The intruders were male, big guys with matching black haircuts and penetrating chocolate brown eyes. I looked down at my phone and immediately popped it shut. I rummaged around on the floor for a weapon, anything to keep those two brutes off of me. Maybe I could hide in the crowd again. Maybe only these two guys were particularly suspicious of me. I found the nail file on the floor and wrapped my fingers around it. I flew off the ground, the way I'd seen Buffy Summers repel attackers so many times, and I made a good firm stabbing motion. On the way, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and I knew why they were suspicious. The spell had worn off. I looked like me again, and I probably smelled like me too.

"We already have your friend," one of the Weres grunted. He grabbed me by the wrist and twisted my arm until I dropped the nail file. It was useless anyway. I hadn't even finished my whole _attack move_ thing because I was too distracted by the mirror's all too revealing image.

"Which one?" I narrowed my eyes. Did they mean Alcide? Amelia? Hell, either way, I was toast.

I was dragged, fidgeting and kicking, all the way back down the hall to the ballroom. My hooded cape fluttered around me like an ill-fitting nightgown. As we came closer to the gathering crowd, the sea of bodies parted. Not good, Sookie. This is so very not good. Each of my captors grabbed one side of my robe and pulled. The fabric yanked apart and I fell onto the floor, naked and exposed for the entire group to see. I wrapped my arms around as much of myself as I could, and I cowered with fear and shame. Warm bodies radiated beside me, but it took me a long time to look up at them. Alcide Herveaux was crouching on the ground, as stark naked as I was, his hands bound behind him in huge sterling silver cuffs. Miriam, the Baton Rouge pack master, was in a similar situation beside him. And on the far end of our little line of bodies, Amelia was bowed on the ground, muttering under her breath. The spell had worn off her as well. She was regular old Amelia again, and, by the looks of it, preparing for spell number two.

"Selene, the Passionate One, we thank you for the gifts you have given us, the world you have opened to us. We are forever in your service." The crowd of Weres was starting up for round three of the night's festivities. I knew from Amelia's broadcasted brain waves that this ritual would be an execution, and something told me that my roommate and I had been added to the excitement like after-dinner mints. Selene emerged from the crowd and I lifted my head just enough to see her. She was still beautiful, as beautiful as I'd seen her with magically enhanced werewolf eyes. I didn't get the same vibe of abject desire as I had only an hour ago, but I still found her exquisite, a perfect specimen of existence.

"We have intruders, my children," She addressed her brood, and they howled and jeered in our direction. Hate seemed to penetrate my skin, to puncture my orifices. I felt sick to my stomach where I hadn't before. I peeked at Amelia, still bent over in her meditations. If she had the same reaction that I did, she didn't reveal it. "Intruders and betrayers."

There was more howling, followed by hissing. A few legs came out to kick at Alcide and Miriam. Miriam fell forward onto her knees. She turned her eyes away from Selene and looked off in Amelia's direction.

I looked over at Alcide more closely as the crowd continued to react, to grunt and seethe, to listen to their mistress. A stream of blood was drying on his temple, and his lower lip was bruised and swollen. His chest and back were bloody with lacerations and burns, welts and bruises. The same and similar markings flowed down his hip, his thigh, even to his ankles and feet. He lifted his eyes to me for a moment, and in them I caught a great swell of pride. Alcide was surviving. He wasn't going to give in to these Secret Society fiends. He'd get out of this mess somehow. I wanted to embrace him, but I kept my hands to myself.

A great bang made the entire room turn its collective head. Startled, I looked on as the floor began to smoke. A raptor burst from the plume and took off toward the ceiling. The bird screamed and ducked around our heads, brushing one wing against my shoulder. I watched Amelia dart down the hallway, two robed figures running after her. Their thick-soup transformations echoed through the ballroom as they pursued on four legs.

"The witch explains much," Selene said, not addressing me. "No matter. We must continue our evening as though it were undisturbed."

I didn't know what she meant, but that doesn't mean I wanted to find out. Of course, it didn't matter what I wanted. I crawled closer to Alcide on my knees as I heard the revolting sucking sounds of man to wolf transformation. Several robes were abandoned by men and women alike. Alcide tucked his chin over my head, and I crawled into the empty space between his knees. This was no time to be squeamish about nudity. We were all going to die, and something told me it wasn't going to be an easy death either. One of the wolves threw a heavy paw against Alcide's exposed spine. He grunted, gritted his teeth, and leaned against my shoulder. Another wolf snapped near me, his teeth gnashing viciously. I squirmed even closer to Alcide's chest and shivered. Miriam closed in beside us, and together we kept our backs to our attackers. I felt the breeze of a paw as it swiped through the air and came into contact with my flesh. I cried out as the claws peeled back skin and sinew. Miriam yelped like an injured animal beside me when teeth came down on her shoulder. I could hear them growling, as though the sound had penetrated my mental barriers.

"Alcide! Watch out!" I screamed suddenly when I saw sharp teeth surround Alcide's throat and bite down. My voice choked off into a cry when clawed paws dragged me away from the protective shelter of Alcide's body. I watched blood stream down the sides of his neck. I threw my hand into the nose of a wolf and scrambled back toward the Shreveport pack master. He was seizing as more blood spurted from his wounds. I caught the spray across my face, but I kept moving toward him. Teeth caught my ankle and yanked.

"Alcide! Fight back!" I cried out. I kicked my free leg and felt fur under my toes. With my arms stretched out, I tore at the floor for support and received none.

Alcide's bloody body dropped to the ground. The teeth on my leg released. There were wild howls and vicious human-like yells. The society descended upon the pack master, tearing at his skin and muscle. I turned away in horror. The sound was more than I could stand to hear, and yet I could not keep from hearing it.

"Alcide," I whimpered quietly. I looked up at the ceiling. I didn't even have the will to move, to escape, even though now was my best chance for it. The walls echoed with inhuman cries of ecstasy, triumph, and pleasure. I covered my ears with my hands and shut my eyes. I felt a cold hand on my shoulder, and I threw up my fist to repel it. My fist caught in that hand. I opened my eyes to see Eric crouching near me.

"Alcide…" I choked. The Viking's arms sank against the ground and pulled me up. I was bloody and sore, naked and completely empty. I tugged at Eric's clothing just to have something to hold.

"Bill, Pam," Eric nodded at the small entourage he'd brought along. The two of them slid into place around the distracted hoard. Eric carried me swiftly to the corner of the ballroom where Amelia stood, in the form of a bird. Then he took a place among the attacking vampire triangle.

I watched, though I had no desire to see what I was about to see. Eric, Bill, and Pam rushed on the humans and wolves, throwing aside bodies and biting throats. I watched blood spatter the floors and walls. Near one corner of the room, a gorgeous black wolf trotted down the hall, and I knew that Selene had escaped. It didn't matter. We weren't here to destroy the society, only to rescue our friends. Tears stung my cheeks. We hadn't even done that. I was a failure. Amelia nuzzled my arm with her feathered head.

"Sookie," Eric panted near my ear. I lifted my head. I'd tucked my face down between my knees to avoid staring at the carnage and chaos. How many minutes had passed since I'd blocked out the fighting?

"I'm sorry," I wept, raising my eyes to the blood-lusting Viking. He dragged me off the floor and into his arms. His shirt, skin, pants, hair, and mouth were stained red, but I didn't care. I pressed my head under his chin and tried to hide from the world. "I'm so sorry."

"Eric," Bill muttered somewhere near by. I peeked up over Eric's shoulder and instantly regretted it. What was left of Alcide Herveaux had been draped across Bill's outstretched arms. It was all he could do not to finish off the carcass. I swallowed an acidic lump of vomit.

"We need to get out of here," Eric nodded.

Eric ran the bath for me as soon as we arrived at the farmhouse, but I didn't want to get into it. I wanted to go on feeling dirty, like a failure. I had failed Alcide and Miriam. They'd died, and I hadn't done anything to prevent it. I sat uneasily on the toilet seat and looked at the floor. Eric had wrapped his blood-stained shirt around my shoulders on our flight home. He'd sustained a nasty bite on his shoulder, a three-pronged scar on his ribs, and a good blow to the temple. They'd already started to heal, but that didn't make them hurt any less. I looked down at my pathetic self. I'd certainly seen better days, but I'd seen worse days too. The bite on my ankle was swollen and bloody. I knew I had cuts on my back. I was covered in blood, and only some of it was mine. Most of it belonged to Alcide Herveaux. I choked back tears.

"Whether you had gone or not, lover, Alcide Herveaux would be dead." Eric said in a matter-of-fact, vampire sort of way. I cried harder.

"I put myself in danger for nothing! I should have done something!"

"You had good intentions, Sookie," Eric sighed. His voice softened to something more human-like. He crouched on the floor in front of me. His hands rested on my thighs. "You didn't know what they had planned. You could not have stopped them if you had known. I couldn't have stopped them."

"Was it like this with your Revelation?" I whimpered.

"There will always be creatures that are for secrecy, Sookie. Some vampires did not want to be revealed. Some Supes want to remain in hiding. There is much benefit with desegregation, as it were, but there is much to fear as well. Some Supes would rather avoid all that could go hand in hand with their outing."

"So they murder the ones that are trying to make things better?" I blinked, confused.

"They do what they think they must, Sookie." Eric sighed. He lifted me off the toilet seat and set me down in the tub. The warm water stung my open wounds, but I didn't make a sound. "We all do what we think we must to survive."

**The End.**


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